


Creaking Chills

by VoltageStone



Category: Scooby Doo Where Are You! (TV 1969)
Genre: F/F, With an actual mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17357588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoltageStone/pseuds/VoltageStone
Summary: Velma couldn't stop thinking about anything other than what she shouldn't. And with the mystery of the Howler in an old, rickety hotel, it wasn't a good circumstance to be in.





	Creaking Chills

_ **No One's Perspective** _ **-**

It was dark, and she could smell the must of the old furniture just outside the door. Hell, she could almost feel the screams and cries of Shaggy, Scooby-Doo and the phantom from across the property with her back plastered against the cold wall. Velma's mind was as obscured as that dry ice she found earlier—or was it a fog machine?—and the rest of her insides were going just as haywire as all the computer monitors in the lab. But she was so soft, against her. So soft and warm that Velma couldn't care less about the hands at her hips, or the straying lips to her neck.

There was just one thing.

Her mother taught her to do good, and taught her—though she wasn't religious—to not betray the bible. To not betray the church's teachings. To not betray what Pastor Don told her and everybody in those rows of benches.

And yet...

"Daphne," she breathed, the cackling of the phantom too close for her liking. Chains had clanked and jangled as the warm body and those firm hands yanked themselves away.

The horrible laughter began to cough and groan, wrenching Velma from the van window. She frowned, and shifted her square glasses as the engine sputtered. The van then rolled to a slow halt. Freddie looked to his side, towards Shaggy and Scooby-Doo as they poked their heads from the unusually large space between Daphne and Velma. "Out of gas," Freddie grumbled. "But at least we made it to a hotel, right gang?"

"Yeah," Shaggy gulped from beside Velma. Everybody stared out from the Mystery Machine. The ominous clouds loomed above, only adding to the unsettling, dark structure. "And I bet that's where _all_ the ghouls go to hit the sack."

"Well," Fred sighed, not quite disagreeing with his friend, "it's the only building in sight, and we can't drive." The keys were soon out of the ignition, and the five out of the van. As they continued to look around, Velma studied the old bricks of the hotel's foundation, and the dark wood sitting above. A soft wind brushed against her cheeks, cold and nipping.

She heard Daphne say behind her, "Looks like the Mystery Machine is the only car in sight too."

Velma adjusted her glasses as Scooby-Doo began to tease his large nose in a hole in the ground, and shook her head. "Not necessarily, Daphne—look, there's two in the trees over there."

Freddie glanced over as he began to make his way up the steps. "That's funny. I wonder why they're parked like that." Velma jumped as Scooby yelped, his nose red and sore.

"Come on, Scooby," Shaggy chuckled, watching as a groundhog scurried back in the hole. "Let's go. Maybe there'll be food inside." Velma rolled her eyes as the dog gave an excited smack of the lips.

"Oh those two," she murmured quietly, a small smile barely forming.

"I know, you'd think we're starving them," Daphne replied under her breath. Velma suddenly felt queasy. She was too close. Much too close. Instead of glancing over her shoulder for a shared look, she gave a meek laugh. Velma still felt cautious eyes at the back of her neck.

Freddie knocked on the large doors as they made their way on the last few stairs. "The door was jammed," he clarified.

It was barely after Fred commented when the door was violently pulled open. "Dagnabbit, the damn door." A greying man blinked to the small group and gave a weary smile. "Why, hello kids! Come to stay for the night or two?"

"Just one, and gas if you have it too," Freddie answered with a polite smile.

"And food?" Shaggy asked hopefully.

The man's grin grew bigger. "Of course! Of course! We have all the space you could imagine, and plenty of food as well. And gas—" His dark eyes snapped to the front of the hotel. "Yes, we have gas." His voice dropped to a less enthused tone. "But you have to move your car to the trees."

"Why's that?" Daphne's voice, once again, was too close to Velma. And though she couldn't feel her breath, a piece of her wished...

"Come inside, quickly. Strange things have been happening lately." The man stepped to the side as they filed in, Scooby giving a lingering glance before trotting to the center of the cozy, rustic lobby. The man shut the door and locked it soundly. Velma furrowed her brows, and then looked to the windows, and another door leading outside. All were locked tightly. The man strode briskly to the desk and stood behind it. "Oh, and my name's John Bornel, by the way. And you are?"

"Fred, and this is Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo."

"Pleased to meet you," Mr. Bornel said. There was a similar, polite chorus then received.

"So, about the strange happenings?" Velma asked, stepping closer to the desk.

"Yes. As you can tell, barely any guests are here and I have to keep the place locked like Fort Knox."

"Yeah, like no kidding," Shaggy muttered, looking to the walls.

Mr. Bornel gave a small, weary smile and continued: "This place is haunted, I'm afraid... So bad I can't even lie to new guests."

"Haunted?" Daphne almost squeaked. "By who?"

"More like by _what_ ," the man said. "This used to be a ski resort, you see. People would come from all sorts of places just to visit—more in the winter, of course, where there's snow. Anyway, a couple of years ago, there was a horrible blizzard with strong winds. Took down most of the old ramps and lifts."

"And you couldn't rebuild them?"

"We did. It took a while with all these jagged mountains, but we did. Though, I'm afraid, that same blizzard awoke an old beast living down this ancient cave. The Howler."

"The H- _Howler_?" Shaggy gulped. "What's that?"

"A frost monster that can blow a blizzard's wind and destroy everything in its path. Including those lifts we rebuilt. When that blizzard hit a couple of years ago, I figured the stories of the creature were just kids being kids and finding something to entertain themselves around the fireplace. But," he gave another sigh, "for the past year, its sightings been more, er, common. Scaring the guests away and blowin' the cars right off the front, taking them down the hill to the river down below."

Velma began to configure her way through the circumstances. "Have you seen it?"

The man nodded. "Oh yes. It came after a few guests in their room and I got there just in time to see it jump out the window." Mr. Bornel glanced towards Shaggy and Scooby, who clutched each other, startled. "Sorry to scare you; would understand if you chose to leave. At this point, I'd rather shut this place down than see guests run for the hills."

"Maybe it won't come to that," Freddie said, much to the cowering two's delight. "We could help, and we don't have much choice without the gas."

"Yes, I can help with that. Danny! Philip!" he called. Two burly men quickly came to his side. "Would you two help with the van parked outside and put it to the trees? And give it some gas?"

"Will do, Mr. Bornel," one of them replied. As swiftly as they came, the two men unlocked the front door, and slipped outside. Velma noted that the wind was stronger than before by the way the brunette's hair—she assumed it was Philip—flipped and twirled.

"Anyway, I'll guide you to your rooms. And I'm assuming you'll want to be by the few other guests, yes?"

"Yes, thank-you," Velma said as he pulled two keys from the back cabinets.

"Alright. The rooms themselves are a bit further from each other, though Hank, Mr. and Mrs. Bellbury and Casey will have their rooms around yours." The gang all followed close behind. "Oh, and there's free breakfast and dinner with the charge," he added.

As they all made their way towards the stairs, passed the broken elevator, Shaggy grinned. "Now _that's_ the service I'm talking about! Right Scoob?"

"Reah! Reah!" the dog exclaimed, licking his lips.

Velma rolled her eyes and said, "Must you only talk about food? We just ate not even an hour ago."

"Yeah, well, all this Howler nonsense is making my stomach howl for food." Why did she even try anymore? She only shook her head slowly as Shaggy chuckled at his own, dry joke. As they reached the last step of the stairs, the three found that the others had already made it across the hall.

"Come on guys." Daphne waved them over. "Did you get caught on a step or what?" As they jogged to catch up, Velma caught a pair of stark, jade eyes. She immediately focused her own to the floor, and shrugged passed Daphne. There was no comment in return, not that she expected anything. Those were saved away from the boys.

Mr. Bornel stopped at a room—207—and fiddled with the lock before opening the door. "This'll be the guy's room. Two beds, a bath. Of course, the window's locked and I'd rather you not do anything to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Shaggy said. "Thanks."

"And you girls," Mr. Bornel continued, fishing his other key from his dark green suit, "will be down the hall between Casey and Hank's rooms." Velma caught the room number—210—as the door was opened. "Once again, two beds...oh." He frowned and strode to one of the beds, furthest from the locked window. He tapped the bed boards and they wobbled in turn. "Shoot... So this is the room with the broken bed. Er...would you like to change rooms?"

"No, this is good," Velma said quickly, "thanks."

"Alright. So, again, two beds—which the one may be useless—a bathroom and a locked window. Again, don't open it." He set the key down on the side table between the beds and strode towards the door. "Enjoy your stay, then."

"Thank-you," the two replied as the door was shut.

And then...nothing. No words filled the room. Velma trudged her way towards the window, looking over the front of the hotel. Danny and Philip were pushing the Mystery Machine towards the rest of the hidden cars, a small container of gas—emptied, she presumed—left behind. She folded her arms and gazed along the trees. They all appeared to have been stretched, reaching towards the sky, teetering to her left. Her mind worked around the puzzle, gnawing on the few pieces she had. As Velma pondered, she pressed her knuckles to her lips in thought.

Her gut dropped as a sly tongue slid through her lips. She didn't bother tightening them; in fact, to her memory, she—

Velma clenched her jaw. Couldn't she think through one damn mystery and forget that closet? The trees, then, _trees_. Leaning to the left—her left—and the wind. And this "Howler" legend. Yes, it all fit together perfectly, except none of it was plausible. How could something blow away a car? Or a ski-lift? Not even the big bad wolf could blow a brick house down.

"Hey?"

She jerked from the window, though caught herself before she made to glance over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

There was a pause before Daphne asked, "So, which bed are you sleeping in?"

"The broken one." Velma found herself somewhat taken aback; she didn't miss a beat to answer. She didn't even know she _had_ one.

"Oh...okay. You know you don't have to—"

"And neither do you, so why wouldn't I?"

Daphne blinked. "I... Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Velma finally turned from the window. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" She might as well have had her true answer bolded on her forehead by the skeptical look Daphne gave.

"Are you sure? You've been avoiding me since we visited Dr. Lavtok's manor a few weeks ago." Velma, this time, didn't have an answer. Though she appeared to have had a stroke of luck. A knock on the door. Neither spoke for a moment before Daphne asked, "Who is it?"

"I want dinner."

It wasn't witty, nor did it have his usual charm, but it was Norville Rogers alright. Daphne opened the door and Shaggy grinned, Scooby-Doo at his feet. "You want to get something to eat?" Freddie asked, stepping in view. Daphne glanced to Velma, who nodded.

"Yeah, we could use that."

**~ [] ~**

With everybody's stomach full and minds to the promise of warm beds, the gang went to their respective rooms for the night. While Freddie, Shaggy and Scooby were probably chatting the night away, Velma and Daphne remained as silent as ever. The groans of the floorboards were their only conversation. With the only lamp on, showering the room in a golden light, Velma was settled in her bed, eyes to her book. She ignored the ginger the best she could, instead internally congratulating herself that there now was only thirty pages left to read.

Velma flipped to another chapter when there was a short gasp from the window. "Jeepers!" Out of instinct than anything, Velma tore her gaze from the book. She set _East of Eden_ down and got up. The floorboards whined as she took large strides towards the paling woman. "Velma, look! There's footsteps near our window!"

She frowned and stared at the entryway, the first floor extended from the second with a slanted roof. And even in the light of the disappearing sun, Velma saw the large, dark prints going diagonally across. Her eyes then scanned the trees, which suddenly bristled and tipped further to the left. The cars amongst them started shudder, dirt and dust whipping across the windshields as the window began to waver subtly. Daphne reached for the blinds and tugged hurriedly. "I hate this place already," she gasped, clutching her biceps. "It gives me the creeps."

"You say that about half of the places we've been to. They usually turn out fine."

"Yeah, well, we have a knack of finding them." Velma gave a soft laugh before she could stop it. Without another word, she looked at the time, and stepped into the bathroom. She began to focus herself on those strange footsteps, and the cook that served them their dinner not an hour before. Velma stared at the faucet of the sink and pondered; he didn't seem to tie in with anything. The cook appeared to be very happy with his job, and didn't want to have the place shut down. Though, to keep her thoughts from wandering far, Velma continued to reanalyze his character, picking apart everything. She might've missed something, after all.

"Velma?"

A tremor bolted throughout her body before she spun around. Daphne stood at the door, holding herself in her long nightgown. "What is it?" Velma asked, adding, "Did you see anything else?"

"No. I'm not opening the blinds. I can't stand the windows of this place." She stepped forward once, and Velma unconsciously pressed herself against the sink. "It's just...are you okay? You're not like how you normally are." _Around me_ —Velma knew those words lingered in the air. And why shouldn't they? How could the boys know? Why would she confide in them? They weren't a part of it, for one thing.

"I can't—" she breathed, "I can't think through one damn thing without _you_ distracting me."

"I... Me?"

What was she playing at? Velma narrowed her eyes. "You know _why_ ," she said flatly.

Yes, Daphne did know why. For the past few weeks she knew why. It wasn't a mystery. The closet was just as fresh in her mind as Velma's, and how they shoved themselves in to narrowly miss the phantom. But, the mystery was why Daphne had the gall to plant a firm kiss on Velma's lips, and why they didn't stop until those horrible chains rattled in another room. Perhaps it was because of the build-up of stolen glances, lingering touches and those squirming, aching jolts that constantly ran through their bodies.

"I know," she whispered after a long minute. "I- I know. But it's not like it's been easy for me either, Velma. I mean—" she gave a hoarse laugh "—I don't know why I did it then, or...or why you didn't stop me." Daphne furrowed her brows, and she stood a little taller. "So why didn't you?"

Velma took a long breath, and stuttered, "I don't—I don't know." _Liar._ She gulped, and glared to the floor. "I'm a freak of nature."

"Don't say that," Daphne said in a rush. She stepped forward, too close for Velma's comfort.

"Why not? If anything, I should have eyes for Fred, or Shaggy! Not...not _you_."

"...Why?"

"Have you forgotten about my mom? About Pastor Don and—"

Daphne shook her head. "No, I haven't. Which is why I kissed you in the closet, instead of— instead of out in the street, or in the van like I want to." She choked as Velma's eye grew startled. It wasn't like she was keeping a grand secret, though to _say_ it rather than _do_ was another thing. "Listen. Just, just forget about your mom. Forget Pastor. Forget Virginia. They're not here, right?"

"So? She— They said before that we'd burn for it!"

"And so what?" Daphne held Velma my her shoulders. There was no escaping those ethereal, jade eyes any longer. Velma didn't notice how her heart hammered until now, faster than what any monster has ever done to it. "You don't believe in that stuff anyway, so why should you care?" She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry; Velma stared with her doe eyes, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Because I _want_ it. And if my mom's right, what will happen?"

"But nothing's happened."

"Yet."

Daphne sighed weakly, now feeling the hands cradling her shoulders. When had they snuck their way there? "Nothing's happened," she repeated. "And if we're already going to hell for it, how does it change things if we do more?" Once again, Velma found herself without words. "I want it too. You're not the only one," she added, near-silently.

Velma felt her heart pulse against her ears, beckoning her to forget about her mom, the church and the, what, Screamer? Yeller? And so she did as the gap was closed between them. It was gentle, soothing at first. Though, with each moment that passed, she felt herself lean over the sink, hands busy to catch herself. They hooked around narrow shoulders as Daphne pressed her palms against the sink. She didn't realize just how hot she'd gotten until the chilly hair washed against her orange nightgown. Velma opened her eyes to find Daphne stepping away, holding her hand lightly. She followed, barely remembering to flick off the light switch in the bathroom.

She expected Daphne to lead her to the better-suited bed, though Velma soon realized her mistake once there was a long, muffled _creak_. Velma sat up, straddling Daphne who had a sultry glimmer in her eyes. "Why the broken one? Yours—"

"Like I'm going near the window," Daphne muttered. Velma couldn't blame her, not with the cheeky grin against her own. "And besides," she continued, her breath against Velma's cheeks, "where's the fun in that?" Before there was any argument, Daphne flipped the two of them over. Velma's legs where hooked around her waist, and her back pressed against the bedsheets. As she gazed up at the slender face over her, Velma heard her book—whatever it was—fall to the floor with a soft _smack_. She paid no mind, not when Daphne's hips rolled against her own, hands playing with the end of her purple nightgown. It was stripped away teasingly, allowing Velma to take in the soft lines that made up her narrow curves. Even with clothes on, Velma knew that she was the dream girl. The one that the neighborhood swooned over. The whole town, even, and wherever they went.

And yet, the dream girl was over _her_ , those perfect lips hungrily peppering her neck, those finely manicured hands clawing through her own nightie. Which was eventually pulled over her head, and tossed away. As Daphne gazed over Velma's exposed body, she couldn't breathe. Cold hands clutched her hips as she began to wonder why such a shapely body was always hidden away underneath a baggy shirt. A careful grip held Velma's back, lips enticing a soft groan as they attached themselves back to the crook of her neck. Velma swallowed, pressing kisses against what skin she could reach, her hands roaming the dimples in Daphne's back she could never find on herself.

Though, in a strange way, she managed to have them after all.

Scalding lips began to trail down her chest, pausing just briefly for deep, bright eyes to gaze back up at her. Velma arched into her, not expecting nails to rake against the small of her back, nor to the attention of her full breasts. And while goosebumps followed the trail of lingering fingertips, Daphne's carnal desire in her searing gaze left Velma transfixed. As Daphne nibbled to her naval, Velma felt unbelievably flustered. Then, a shock raced through her aching body once she felt something drag between her legs: a soft, adventurous hand. Velma brought her knuckles to her mouth and felt her blush deepen to a scarlet red as Daphne continued to play with her, marking her thighs with dark ovals and trailing a teasing finger.

The teasing had paused once Daphne glanced at her underwear with a mischievous smirk. Slowly, tauntingly, she pulled at the rim of the unnecessary undergarment. It was unbearably prolonged for Velma, who couldn't help but feel impatient. Something lurked inside her gut, twisting and turning as anticipation buzzed amongst her lower groin. And it mewled as Daphne moaned, eyes between Velma's quivering thighs.

Velma sighed as Daphne ran another finger, and groaned once Daphne whispered, "Fuck Velma..." She hadn't expected it to be this ready for her. Velma chewed the inside of her cheek as Daphne leaned in curiously. She shivered as Daphne dragged a tongue across. After another long drag, Velma even felt the greedy whine against her thighs, Daphne pressing herself closer. She moaned, running her hands through Daphne's hair. Nothing should feel as good as this was, especially in the old hotel on a decrepit bed. Yet, she guided Daphne closer to her, firmly against the aching drum at her groin.

"Damn it," she whispered.

She found that she couldn't hold herself up any longer. So, with another whimper, Velma collapsed to the bed, the sheets artic against her fevered skin. Her nails clawed the sheets as Daphne continued, indulging in the moans that continued to fill the room, gaining volume. Before she knew it, Velma felt her hips buck, hand to long hair in an effort to keep the needed pressure there. Her head dove back, and the window—darker than it probably should've been—didn't seem like an issue any longer. "God Daphne," she gasped, her body filling with minor, brief tremors.

Soon Daphne snaked her way up to Velma's lips, now a strange combination of bitter, salty and sweet. Velma felt Daphne shuffle, moving even with their lips working together and arms around her shoulders. And then, she felt a slick warmth against her thigh. Velma groaned, her eyes drawn towards the bare hips grinding against her skin. The bed began to sing a tottery, unsteady rhythm which only made a gleeful grin that Velma couldn't help but make.

For the first time in weeks, she was able to give her undivided attention at once. Without any second thought, she twisted, spinning Daphne to the bed. Her smile only deepened at the surprised gaze. She kissed it away, her body moving with a fluid determination.

**~ [] ~**

The first thing Velma awoke to was the chill of the room. As she put on her glasses from the nightstand, Velma rationalized that it was autumn, snow was coming in a few months—weeks, maybe—and the hotel sat at a high altitude. With a frown, she lifted the sheets covering her body and quickly pulled them to her neck. Her nightgown was covering Daphne's, on the floor. It would've been warmer if she'd put it on. But... Her cheeks bloomed red slightly. But it would've been too hot the night prior.

There was a groan beside her, and the rustling of sheets. Velma spared a glance, only to keep her eyes on the flawless, pale back as Daphne stretched. Once she had run a hand through her long, ginger locks, Daphne turned around. Velma forced her eyes at the ceiling, keeping the bedsheets firmly to her shoulders. Before Daphne could muster a quiet, _Morning_ , Velma grumbled, "We should probably go down to the lobby and eat."

"I... Y-yeah, I guess. Just—" Daphne exhaled, and was tempted to cover herself the same. Though, Velma's gaze lingered to her chest fleetingly, and she felt she didn't want to. "Just, are we going to talk? You're still acting like..."

"Like what?"

"Like...I don't know. But Velma, before we go down, I just want you to know that you're always going to be my friend—a close one. And," Daphne said, "and if this ruins that then we can stop." Velma didn't expect herself to sit up the way she did, disregarding the falling sheets. Nor did Daphne, for the matter. And Velma while tried to speak, she couldn't bring any words out. She felt a hand to her cheek, careful and gentle. "We can talk later and eat first, just...I just wanted to let you know."

Daphne's touch haunted the side of her face once she left. Velma decided against keeping Daphne in view as the two both dressed in warm clothes, solving the issue of the unbearable cold. Neither spoke as they left the room, and strolled down the stairs. Once in the lobby, the sight of Freddie, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo collapsed on the couches caught her by surprise. As the girls strolled towards them, Shaggy jerked his head from a pillow. "Oh, hi. Were you not able to sleep that well too?"

"No, we slept...fine, actually," Daphne answered. "What happened?"

"The Howler," he replied weakly. "It was horrible. Like a-a big albino bat with acid poured all over it."

"Ew." Daphne shivered, turning to Fred.

The blond nodded in agreement. "I'd have to agree with Shaggy. Tell them the whole story."

Shaggy nodded, and sat up. "So, like Scoob and me were coming down here for some more grub to take back up, and the whole place was empty."

"Not even the chef?" Velma intervened, puzzled. "Didn't he say that he'd leave really late?"

"Wasn't there," Shaggy said. "And we heard this strange, muffled creaking. Like...I don't know what it was. We went to investigate and it seemed to have been coming from the walls." Velma and Daphne briefly gave one another a glance, a their cheeks turning a soft pink. "And it just popped out of nowhere!"

"Jeepers. I found footsteps on the first floor roof last night, just by our window. Could it be by the Howler?"

Fred shrugged. "Could've been. Are they still there?"

"I...think so."

"Maybe we should go look and see if we can follow them." Velma felt stricken, with a punch to the gut. Their clothes were still strewn about. And the creaky bed—she felt like they would recognize its groans and whines. But what would she say? A mystery needed to be unraveled, and quickly.

"We can see. There wasn't any rain last night," she said.

Freddie nodded with a curiosity formulating. "Alright. We can quickly go check your room for the footprints and search for any clues."

"Right," Daphne muttered.

"Shag, wake up Scooby, would you?" As Freddie began to go towards the stairs, the large dog was woken up from his slumber, and the rest followed close behind. A nervous dread began to set along Velma's shoulders; she felt the same radiating off of Daphne. "You two have two-ten, right?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Velma confirmed, her throat suddenly dry. At the room, Fred put his hand on the doorknob.

"Everybody ready?"

There was a nod from Shaggy, and a yawn from the dog. Velma and Daphne, however, couldn't do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to say this now, so you don't get your hopes up: This is the only story I'll probably do on this fandom. Not because I hate it, or anything, just because this is the only one that I have and will most likely ever have. That said, this story will be around seven or eight chapters, ten at most. And more based on the first show, since that is the one I have the most nostalgia of, and since I have every-single-episode.
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy!  
> :)


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